Волны

           WhatdoIthinkofyou--whatdoyouthinkofme?Whoareyou?WhoamI?--thatquiversagainitsuneasyairoverus,andthepulsequickensandtheeyebrightensandalltheinsanityofpersonalexistencewithoutwhichlifewouldfallflatanddie,beginsagain.Theyareonus.Thesouthernsunflickersoverthisurn;wepushoffintothetideoftheviolentandcruelsea.Lordhelpustoactourpartsaswegreetthemreturning--SusanandBernard,NevilleandJinny.’

           ’Wehavedestroyedsomethingbyourpresence,’saidBernard,’aworldperhaps.’

           ’Yetwescarcelybreathe,’saidNeville,’spentasweare.Weareinthatpassiveandexhaustedframeofmindwhenweonlywishtorejointhebodyofourmotherfromwhomwehavebeensevered.Allelseisdistasteful,forcedandfatiguing.Jinny’syellowscarfismoth-colouredinthislight;Susan’seyesarequenched.Wearescarcelytobedistinguishedfromtheriver.Onecigaretteendistheonlypointofemphasisamongus.Andsadnesstingesourcontent,thatweshouldhaveleftyou,tornthefabric;yieldedtothedesiretopressout,alone,somebitterer,someblackerjuice,whichwassweettoo.Butnowwearewornout.’

           ’Afterourfire,’saidJinny,’thereisnothinglefttoputinlockets.’

           ’StillIgape,’saidSusan,’likeayoungbird,unsatisfied,forsomethingthathasescapedme.’

           ’Letusstayforamoment,’saidBernard,’beforewego.Letuspacetheterracebytheriveralmostalone.Itisnearlybed-time.Peoplehavegonehome.